Sometimes
by Goa1aso
Summary: Three times that love wasn't enough (and the one time it was). Series of oneshots.
1. Suguha

_**Sometimes, love just isn't enough**_

 _ **Suguha**_

 _ **By Goa1aso**_

Running out the doors of the house with a "Onii-chan, I'm going to kendo practice!" she wondered why it was that the boy upstairs never, ever responded.

Perhaps she should try to gain his attention, to keep him away from his _precious_ videogames and make him go outside and socialize more. (A word in that thought caused her to think of some imagery of an ugly, short man obsessed with a ring for some reason, perhaps she'd watched too many old movies…)

Her thoughts derailed by the random reference, she continued running to kendo practice, thinking of epic battles of swordplay, magic, and mythical beings.

-0-0-0-

 _-Life can strike at any time, turning the world upside down-_

-0-0-0-

Her customary 'I'm home!' died in her throat when she saw the ambulance in front of her house. Instead, other words rose unbidden to her lips.

 _What? Who? How?_

Questions swirling around her head remained unanswered as she entered the house. Upon seeing her mother, sitting at the dinner table, head held in hands, her stomach twisted with dread.

 _No.. no…. no! Not him!_

But she already knew, deep down, that it could only be him. Logically, only three people lived in the house, but her heart denied it all the same.

Racing up the stairs, to the door of the room that she looked at often (for what reason, she knew but refused to acknowledge), she arrived on the scene of a pair of EMTs lifting the comatose boy from his bed, onto a stretcher, dull grey helmet and all.

' _NerveGear'._ Never before had she hated a word so much upon reading it, barely glimpsing the text written before he was carted back downstairs to the waiting ambulance, its lights continuously flashing through the doorway, as if mocking her.

She followed the workers numbly, doubting the reality of the situation. (Someone please, pinch me, I can't take much more…)

The gravity of the situation hit hard as the ambulance drove away in a blare of sirens, the broken-hearted girl finally breaking down and crying in her mother's arms.

-0-0-0-

 _-Sometimes, the end will seem so far away-_

 _-0-0-0-_

This wasn't how it was supposed to go, the girl mused as she sat by the hospital bed of the boy with a dull helmet attached to his head. He was supposed to get injured (minorly, of course!) and she would sit by his bed and take care of him every day until he got better and he would show his gratitude and.. and…

She couldn't even finish the thought, her face feeling as if it were on fire. She ignored her mom's comment, (Thinking about something deeply, Suguha?) choosing to continue her sigil over _him._ She knew that she loved him – and could freely admit that, now that her mother revealed that they were cousins ('Wait, really?' 'Yes, really' – was her reaction, along with no small amount of relief).

Her eyes roamed searchingly over his pale face, looking for any sign that he might be coming back from his unwitting self-imprisonment, frowning slightly as there was none, as there had not been for the past couple months. Her frown deepened, as she took ahold of his hand, feeling the overly prominent bones that were his knuckles.

 _Please, come back to us, to me._

And yet the boy continued his reinforced slumber (a fitting description; a dream turned nightmare, she supposed), oblivious to his family's pleas.

-0-0-0-

 _-Sometimes, the end can be seen-_

-0-0-0-

Days turned into months, the seasons changed, and a year passed. The scene in the hospital room never changed, besides the progressive emaciation of the boy, and the noticeable lack of the mother on some days. However, the girl continued her daily visits, unwilling to give up the small hope that he'd be awake when she came.

She'd even tried to join his world, in a way, with a world of epic battles of swordplay, magic, and mythical beings. (Thank god it didn't use the NerveGear, she still hated that thing with a passion)

And finally, after two years, he woke up, giving her hope, but crushing her in the next second with his first, feeble words.

-0-0-0-

 _-But life just keeps taking and taking-_

-0-0-0-

'Asuna? Asuna? I have to find her…'

Of course, she would help him find his girl. His happiness would make her happy, right?

 _But the small ache in her heart would never go away._

-0-0-0-

 _-Until finally, she realized that sometimes, love just isn't enough-_

 _fin_


	2. Lisbeth

_**Sometimes, love just isn't enough**_

 _ **Lisbeth**_

 _ **By Goa1aso**_

Hmmmmmmm? The pink-haired blacksmith grinned evilly, teasing her friend about her new earrings. Of course, Asuna would deny everything, but it was obvious that she had someone in mind.

' _If only I had someone too…'_ her heart told her, even though she couldn't _hear_ it.

The girl returned to her work with some modicum of melancholy (why do I feel like this?) after seeing her friend out.

-0-0-0-

 _-The mind doesn't always know what it wants-_

-0-0-0-

Oh, she had definitely seen him before, scurrying around town, buying potions and crystals from the nearby merchants. Besides, who hadn't heard of 'The Black Swordsman' anyway? He was practically a legend among the mid and lower-level players. (No, she wasn't mid-level. Yes, she wasn't a clearer. No, that does not mean she was a weak player.)

' _Black Swordsman?'_ what a weird name for a player who wasn't even _black_ , for crying out loud. Calling someone by the color of their clothing was so _lame_. Might as well call _The Flash_ herself 'The White Fencer' at that point. (Asuna would probably hate that name even more, should try calling her that later.) Hell, even _Agil_ fit that moniker better.

She regarded the player perusing her wares absentmindedly in her shop, with a tinge of curiosity. Perhaps 'The Black Swordsman' was _somewhat_ fitting, she conceded, noting the overwhelming amount of black he wore. What a dreary guy.

A guy like him probably would cause trouble in her shop, the blacksmith rationalized, noticing a couple players glance through the windows as if interested before walking away hurriedly as if avoiding the plague. 'The Black Plague' would be a much better nickname, she chortled to herself, her thoughts going off track again. (If she knew the connection between the swordsman and 'The Rat', the obelisk on the first floor probably would've had her name crossed out with the reason ' _Died from laughing too hard.'_ )

-0-0-0-

 _-The mind may resist, rebelling against the heart-_

-0-0-0-

The only other player in the shop turned towards her, hearing the slight noise she'd made, before addressing her.

Apparently, he'd heard good things about her from a friend, and decided to give the blacksmith a try. It was just a small repair job on his gear, so she acquiesced without much trouble despite her initial misgivings.

Humming softly while putting the dark sword, 'Elucidator', against the sharpening wheel, she absorbed herself in the rather mindless work that was maintenance. The overly-darkly dressed (edge-y? emo?) swordsman watched, delivering an offhand comment on how different blacksmithing really was in real life, sparking a small conversation between the two.

Unlike her first impressions, the dialogue felt natural, fraught with subtle verbal jabs at each other, as if they were old friends. (Kirito could see why Asuna got along with her so well…)

Before she knew it, the quick maintenance job was complete, (didn't I just start doing this like a second ago?) 'The Black Swordsman' collecting his equipment back from her while thanking her for a job well done.

Her chest puffed with pride, taking her well-earned money from him as he promised that he'd be back around again.

' _Here's someone you could get along with,'_ her heart spoke again, her mind not receiving the message.

Feeling significantly more warm and fuzzy than earlier, she continued her day with a big smile on her face. ('Why am I in a good mood, Asuna? I don't know… but a weird guy stopped by my shop earlier today.' 'No, I didn't see your friend today. Did you tell them to come by?')

-0-0-0-

 _-But, the heart knows what it wants, long before the mind does-_

-0-0-0-

True to his word, the weird guy visited her once in a while, his visits coinciding with the completion of a new floor. (Not for daily maintenance, like she'd (not) hoped). Always for business purposes, yet always extremely casual when they talked while she worked.

It was on one such visit that he had a different request than usual.

' _A sword… as good or better than the Elucidator?'_

Offering the best sword she had in stock, she looked on in dismay and horror as the _stupid idiot jerk_ boy _broke_ her _art_ ,barely even offering a word of apology as he scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment while she tried to gather the broken pieces of her _beautiful masterpiece_ , said masterpiece bursting into a shower of lights and polygons in her arms.

(I hate this guy's guts so much! Her mind spoke)

' _No… no you don't…'_ her heart refuted.

The infuriatingly calm boy offered to pay her back, if she made a sword for him to his liking. Regardless, she was still excited. Creating an end-game sword for a _clearer_ to use, _'The Black Swordsman'_ no less. How could she not be?

Thinking through all the rumors she'd heard, along with info she'd bought from 'The Rat' about various weapon-crafting materials and techniques, she suggested using a rare metal that should create the best sword for his purposes, informing him that it came from a dragon and that a blacksmith was required for it to appear. (The rumor that a blacksmith had to be there was entirely unconfirmed, but she'd better come along just in case, right? No other reason at all for sure.)

-0-0-0-

 _-Sometimes, the disconnect between heart and mind drives you crazy-_

-0-0-0-

Stuck at the bottom of the anti-crystal trap pit, she wondered what she could've done differently. Perhaps she should've waited for him to kill off the dragon…

' _It was going so well… it's all my fault for our position here..'_

Honestly, she wasn't sure how she felt about her current situation. Guilty? Nervous?

(Guilty makes sense, but nervous?)

' _With how he jumped into the pit and protected you in the fall, no wonder you'd feel nervous around him. He saved your life! He's a great guy! You should totally try to get with him!'_

The blacksmith ignored the constant stream of input from her heart, choosing to observe the man who saved her.

He sat in front of a bundle of sticks (Where did those even come from? What kind of wacko carries sticks in their inventory?), creating a small campfire. He then began to cook a small meal over the fire, and before long he offered her half of it.

Taking the proffered food, she grudgingly admitted his survival-readiness. (When asked why, he simply scratched the back of his head, offering a simple 'Playing solo is rather dangerous'.)

She asked him for some stories of his time clearing on the frontlines, to pass time as they lay in their sleeping bags (another thing the swordsman somehow had prepared). His response came in the form of a series of random tales of his experiences.

Her mind drifted to the moment he jumped with her into the pit. Taking the chance between stories, she voiced her thoughts.

His response confounded her.

(He'd rather die with someone than watch them die? What a self-sacrificing idiot!)

' _How romantic! How heroic!'_ her heart squealed in delight.

(But, that is so sweet…) her mind conceded finally.

The warm, fuzzy feeling she had from talking to him before returned in full-force as he regaled her with wacky hijinks and serious stories alike.

As the pair started to drift off to sleep, her lips moved on their own, requesting something that she would never ask for consciously, at least not so soon.

Her cheeks completely enflamed, she held _his_ hand, reveling in the warmth it emitted, as she tried very hard to sleep. Needless to say, that night was a long but pleasant one for her.

(even if the rest of the experiences in this game is fake, this _feeling_ is real)

-0-0-0-

 _-But when they are in sync, the heart and mind can make you feel more alive than ever-_

-0-0-0-

Returning to her blacksmithing shop, rare metal in hand (she cringed internally at having to hold the dragon poop but there wasn't much she could do about it), she couldn't repress the large, giddy smile on her face.

' _Seriously, who would think of riding on the dragon's back to get out? What an idiot,'_ she thought affectionately, mind and heart finally at peace and working together. ( _My_ idiot _)_

Beelining straight for the back of her shop, towards the forge, she immediately sat down and went to work, hammering the ... _dragon poo ..._ with fervor, with _'The Black Swordsman'_ watching intently.

' _Yes, I'll make him the best sword I can possible make, then I can face him and tell him my feelings.'_

She poured all that she had into the making of her new _masterpiece_ , all of her experience and feelings to make the best she could.

And the final product could not have turned out any better.

When asked how much he owed, she coyly responded, 'I don't need payment, as long as you promise to make me your personal blacksmith,' with as much suggestive undercurrent she could muster without losing her façade of calm.

He hesitated, considering the implications of the offer, before disaster struck in the form of a white and red-clad brunette rapier wielder, sweeping through the door and hugging the blacksmith.

'The Flash' fussed over her, checking if she was okay, followed by a torrent of questions as _'The Black Swordsman'_ looked on in obvious discomfort.

('Are you okay?' 'Yeah…' 'You didn't answer any of my PMs!' 'I was out in a dungeon' 'What?! Overnight? Did you at least have someone with you?' 'Yeah, that guy you just ignored…')

Asuna whipped around immediately, her expression softening and cheeks reddening upon seeing who it was.

The swordsman offered an awkward wave, immediately retracting his hand after to rub his neck. (A sign of embarrassment, the pink-haired girl's mind supplied (un)helpfully). The ensuing conversation – if one could call it that – between the two was just like a pair of students in school that shared a mutual crush…

-0-0-0-

 _-Sometimes, it's hard to choose between your friend's happiness and your own-_

-0-0-0-

Her heart clenched painfully as her mind read the implications of the scene before her. Tears formed at the corner of her eyes before she wiped them away with a clenched fist. She put on the best smile that she could before the couple noticed.

-0-0-0-

 _-But in the end, her friend's happiness came first-_

-0-0-0-

His acceptance of her offer to become his only blacksmith lessened the pain a bit, but it was still very much there. She saw them off from her shop with a forced smile, but of course neither of them noticed; it was as if they were in a completely different world from everyone else while they talked.

-0-0-0-

 _-Because sometimes, love just isn't enough-_

-0-0-0-

(As the world around her fell to pieces, she shouted her love to the heavens, vowing to meet _him_ in real life.)

 _fin_


	3. Sinon

_**Sometimes, love just isn't enough**_

 _ **Sinon**_

 _ **By Goa1aso**_

 _Tch. The nerve of the pervert. Pretending that he was a girl to see me in my underwear._

The blue-haired ice queen sent a frosty glare back at the _less than human_ (at least in her eyes) player who still insisted on following her around like a lost puppy.

 _Leave me alone! I don't want your pervert eyes on me!_

Telling him such (with a few choice words thrown in), she winced at the face he made. Between his emasculated avatar and his large, expressive eyes, he looked as if she'd taken his favorite stuffed animal and ripped it to shreds. Crestfallen. (That's soooo not fair.)

 _Despite my demeanor, I_ _ **do**_ _have a heart…_

Caving in, she brought the puppy with her to a table, giving him the condition that she'd only help him this once.

She hid her moment of softness with a challenge to fight in the finals of the qualifier to the Ballad of Bullets. The 'underdog' agreed readily, with a competitive gleam to his eyes.

-0-0-0-

 _-What is strength?-_

-0-0-0-

 _ **Her eyes became unfocused, her heartbeat hammering in her ears. The only thing she could see was the gun in her hands and the pool of blood expanding from the would-be-thief's body a scant foot away from her.**_

 _ **She didn't cry. Not at first, at least. Honestly, the realization that she'd killed someone hadn't set in yet. Not until her own mother looked up at her, eyes wide open in shock and fear. That was what finally set her off.**_

 _ **The gun, clutched tightly just a few moments ago, fell to the floor from her small, nerveless hands as she slumped against the wall she had backed up against.**_

 _ **Her eyes glazed. This time, all she could see was the wide-eyed fear from the person she held dearest in the world.**_

 _ **And from then on, after every panic attack, if she glimpsed her reflection just the smallest bit, she could see those glazed eyes looking back at her, into her soul.**_

-0-0-0-

 _-Is it the superficial front that people put on?-_

 _(Pretending that everything is okay?)_

-0-0-0-

Returning back to the main lobby with a confident smirk on her lips from an easy victory, she noticed that _the boy_ had won faster than she did. Walking over to the table where he sat, she prepared some choice taunting words to provoke him, but stopped when she saw his expression.

His eyes unfocused and face downcast, it was as if he'd just seen a ghost. Or perhaps Death himself. Gone was the cocky, smart-ass attitude from before. In its place was something far more vulnerable. He looked up shakily as she approached, immediately clutching her hand, searching for an anchor to stabilize.

She recognized that face. That reaction. She'd seen it in the mirror countless times, experienced the tumult of emotions from the all too frequent panic attacks. How could she leave him alone like this?

 _He's just like me… What happened that made him like this?_

The blue-haired girl let him pull her hand closer to his chest, as she asked him what was wrong. He shook his head, unwilling to divulge anything, before he blinked out of existence, disappearing to the arena for his next fight, leaving her hand stretched out to where he was holding it.

 _Talk about bad timing…_

She fretted for a little bit, watching the boy materialize into the battle arena via the large television screens installed in the lobby. He seemed extremely shaken still, but he managed to pull himself together enough to deal out a one-sided victory by using only his _light-sword_ of all things. Who did he think he was? Luke Skywalker?

She shook her head in slight amusement, the system teleporting her to her next match before she could confront the boy when he was teleported back.

 _The system seems to be trying to keep us from talking… Whatever, bring it on!_

-0-0-0-

 _-Is it the ability to take a hit but keep your head down?-_

 _(Barely living day to day?)_

-0-0-0-

 _ **Her haughty classmate talked condescendingly to her in the shadows of the alleyway, demanding something from her. At this point, it didn't matter at all what was wanted, her vision completely focused on the other girl's hand.**_

 _ **The familiar beginnings of a panic attack welled up inside as the hand formed the shape of the crudest, childish rendition of a gun that could ever be done. The image superimposed with her past that she desperately tried to forget, her heart rate skyrocketing to unhealthy levels.**_

 _ **Her eyes bleary, all she could see was a metallic grey and red, along with the faint smell of gunpowder and blood.**_

 _ **She fought the urge to vomit, collapsing to her knees amidst the sound of laughing. She stayed there for a while, even after the girls were chased off.**_

-0-0-0-

 _-Can it be seen and shown through any action?-_

 _(Will something like this actually display?)_

-0-0-0-

The two didn't get a chance to talk again, all the way to the finals of the qualifier (much to the relief of a third party), the icy sniper being transported directly to the arena after her win. She waited in anticipation as the timer counted down to the start of the battle.

 _He obviously looked shaken and yet he's come this far. He_ _ **must**_ _be strong. I'll beat him to prove my own strength._

As soon as the match started, she rushed to a vantage point, aiming down the bridge that was selected as the battlegrounds. But he denied her of the fight she wanted, choosing to walk _out in the open_ nonchalantly, as if he didn't care a thing about the fight.

 _Why? Why is he doing this? Why is he looking down on me? Am I not strong enough for him? Does he think that this game is a joke?_

The sharpshooter's heart rate increased with her rage, her entire body shaking.

Missing an entire clip of sniper rounds, she suddenly stood up and ran straight at the _boy_ , Hecate in hand, demanding _why_ he was trivializing the game.

After a brief moment, the boy with the effeminate avatar repented, asking for a chance to give her the battle she wanted.

And damn, did he deliver.

Pressed up against him, light-sword lightly settled against her throat, she admitted defeat.

(No, she didn't enjoy being near him at all. Also, his cocky attitude was back in full, making her want to punch him for the things he said)

 _He's so strong… I need to learn from him._

 _('Why is he like this? He makes me so mad!' she ranted to a concerned third party)_

-0-0-0-

 _-Life is the true test of strength-_

 _(It'll beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it)_

-0-0-0-

Sitting in the small cavern with Kirito, the blue-haired girl wondered how in the world the situation got to this point. Her mind could barely even handle the information overload she'd been given.

The boy next to her was a survivor from _'The Death Game'_. That much she'd figured out herself. However, the following things he'd described (and shown in the tournament) was what she had trouble processing.

Death Gun was real. The threat he presented was real. If she got shot in game, the _psycho_ in her _room_ would kill her with something. Just thinking about someone watching over her 'sleeping' body was enough to give her the shivers.

The cold feeling down her spine wouldn't go away, so she leaned over, slumping across the light-sword wielder's lap. She tried to will the panic she'd felt earlier in the tournament away.

-0-0-0-

 _-Nothing will hit as hard as life, it'll cause tons of pain-_

 _(But it's not about how hard you are hit)_

-0-0-0-

 _ **She lay on the ground, unable to move, as Death Gun pulled out his signature pistol. All she could do was stare up at**_ _ **it**_ _ **(whatever humanity Death Gun had was definitely gone by now), then close her eyes to accept her fate.**_

 _ **After Kirito gallantly swept in with a smoke grenade to pick her up and run away, that feeling of helplessness didn't go away. Not in the slightest.**_

 _ **The strength she thought she had was nonexistent.**_

-0-0-0-

 _-It's about how hard you can get hit, and get up again-_

 _(Reaching towards your goal, bit by bit)_

-0-0-0-

Normally, she'd be extremely embarrassed, laying on a boy's lap. Especially since she barely even knew him at all. But at this moment, the physical (even if it was just virtual) contact calmed her. She hadn't felt this peaceful in a long time.

She didn't know why. He was a cocky, perverted, smart-ass, competitive, caring, loveable jerk. (Wait, those last few descriptors weren't insulting at all. She should really try to stay on topic.)

Perhaps the last few thoughts weren't completely unwarranted. He had saved her after all. (Also, it was probably not the best time to think about these things, what with her head on his lap and the threat of Death Gun looming over them)

The pair stayed in the same position, discussing about strategies, finding comfort in a kindred spirit.

(The lone camera watched over the two, broadcasting the peaceful _and romantic_ scene)

-0-0-0-

 _-Even if your efforts feel in vain-_

 _(You should never, ever submit)_

-0-0-0-

They'd won. Even though it was a close thing, with the swordfight between _Kirito_ and Death Gun almost taking a turn for the worst, _he'd_ made it out on top.

The schoolgirl felt giddy. The nightmare was finally over.

Happily tossing a grenade to the boy and giving him a big hug, she exited the game with a double-suicide victory.

Sitting up from her bed, she quickly took off her Amusphere, electing to double check every single room in her small apartment for an intruder.

Finding no one, she sprawled back into bed with a sigh of relief. _Thank God I met Kirito. I don't know what I would've done without him._

-0-

Scrambling to stand back up, she watched as an unnamed boy tackled Kyouji to the ground, the two boys throwing punches and rolling around on the floor, trying to gain the upper hand on the other.

 _Who.. is that Kirito?_

Her heart swelled at the thought of him _somehow_ coming to save her again, (how did he even know to come anyways?) she inched towards the table, where she could see a number of things she could use to help fight.

In an instant, her heart plummeted, seeing the syringe in Kyouji's hand poised to strike. It struck forth like a scorpion, snapping at the now-identified Kirito, who twisted to the side when he saw the danger.

Kyouji started laughing as he felt his strike hit something solid, but he immediately slumped to the side as a microwave (of all things) crashed down on his head, knocking him unconscious as the other boy watched on in shock. (Or was that awe?)

-0-0-0-

 _-That is true strength-_

-0-0-0-

The troubled girl rushed to her savior's side, immediately stripping him of his shirt to see where the syringe had hit.

Her worries were unfounded, as he explained that he'd twisted to the side barely enough that the syringe had only caught the side of his clothing before embedding the needle into the wall.

She broke down in tears of relief, kneeling in front of the boy, reprimanding him for his reckless actions.

 _I don't know what I'd do if you had died. I need you to be my anchor. I love you._

Her cheeks flushed at the thought, and she opened her mouth to say something along those lines. _(I kind of like you, will you go out with me?)_

-0-0-0-

 _-Strength can't do much by itself, especially here-_

-0-0-0-

But before she could get the words out, he interrupted.

 _('Sorry, but I need to go back to the hospital and check-in with my girlfriend. I came here as soon as I could because I thought something would be wrong, but I kind of ditched her in the hospital that I was diving at...')_

-0-0-0-

 _-Sometimes, love just isn't enough-_

-0-0-0-

 _Of course. Of course, a guy like him would already have someone. Why would I think otherwise?_

She bravely showed him out the door, wishing him a safe trip back.

-0-0-0-

 _-But what strength can do is give hope for the future-_

-0-0-0-

(Even with the staunch opposition, she decided to continue forward, chasing the boy she loved)

 _fin_

* * *

 _What is true strength?_

 _Is it the superficial front that people put on,_

 _pretending that everything is okay?_

 _Is it the ability to take a hit but keep your head down,_

 _barely living day to day?_

 _Can it be seen through any action,_

 _will something like this actually display?_

 _Life is the true test of strength._

 _It'll beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it._

 _Nothing will hit as hard as life, it'll cause tons of pain._

 _But it's not about how hard you can get hit,_

 _It's about how hard you can get hit, and get up again,_

 _Reaching towards your goal, bit by bit._

 _Even if your efforts feel in vain,_

 _Never, ever submit._

 _That is true strength._

' _The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard you hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward.'_ – _Rocky Balboa, 2006_


	4. Asuna

_**Sometimes, love is enough**_

 _ **Asuna**_

 _ **By Goa1aso**_

All of a sudden, she could move again. She didn't know why. Perhaps Kayaba wanted this to happen and released her enforced paralysis. But all that mattered was that _the sword swung at Kirito_ was moving _too fast_ , and he was about to be overwhelmed and dealt a decisive blow.

 _The Flash moved_ , to the surprise of the hapless players around her, beelining straight towards the black-clad boy like a meteor.

-0-0-0-

 _-Love is patient, love is kind-_

-0-0-0-

 _ **Her Linear flew straight and true with speed rivaling that of a meteor, finishing off the monster with aplomb**_

 _ **A surprised cough to the side caught her attention.**_

 _ **She looked at the intruder on her monster-killing ritual with dead eyes.**_

' _ **Leave me alone. I choose to fight and die here. Better this way than rotting away in an inn.'**_

 _ **But yet he stayed. Even after she collapsed from mental exhaustion, he carried her out of the dungeon, sticking around to see if she was alright afterwards. The swordsman was even considerate enough to understand her feelings, choosing to be ruthlessly pragmatic when she didn't want to hear empty encouragement.**_

 _ **That was when hope bloomed for her in the jail cell of Sword Art Online.**_

-0-0-0-

 _-But it can really hurt sometimes-_

-0-0-0-

The beautifully crafted green-sheened blade in his hand shattered, leaving him open for the follow-up backswing.

' _I need to move faster!'_

Steeling her mind for what she was about to do and offering a silent goodbye to everyone she knew, she lunged forward, throwing her body in front of the Black Swordsman-

-just in time to intercept the incoming blade with her body.

The boy caught her in his arms and watched with wide eyes as her health bar dropped steadily to zero.

' _I love you, goodbye.'_

When her heart felt like it would explode from the teary-eyed expression he beheld her with, her body shattered into a million pieces.

-0-0-0-

 _-Love does not envy, nor does it boast-_

-0-0-0-

 _ **The white-clad fencer watched in awe and trepidation as the boy she admired deeply (no, it wasn't that word that started with an L) fought alone against the gigantic Minotaur of a floor boss.**_

' _ **He can do it,' she wanted to believe but the speed at which his health was depleting was worrying.**_

 _ **Her hand twitched restlessly as it rested on her sword. She really wanted to go help but it just wasn't possible to go help him without getting in his way at this point.**_

 _ **She continued watching uneasily as he unleashed a huge combo-count skill, his dual swords flashing in patterns, dancing against the skin of the boss, leaving red trails wherever it went.**_

 _ **The final stab with a loud battle-cry ended it all.**_

' _ **Congratulations!' the system message read, as the demi-human giant minotaur turned into a shower of blue, the dual-blade wielder staggering and falling to the floor.**_

 _ **She sprinted forward, catching him as he fell, hugging him for all she was worth.**_

 _ **The non-existent sliver of health that she could see at the top left of her vision was a painful reminder of what she could've lost.**_

 _ **The girl vowed to never let him go again.**_

-0-0-0-

 _-It'll be there when you need it most-_

-0-0-0-

She didn't know how long she stood on the glass-like plane in the clouds, staring at the massive, floating, steel castle with a never-ending sunset serving as its backdrop. It was a beautiful view, but she couldn't feel at ease at all. How she was alive still was a mystery in itself, compounded by her current location.

The chestnut-haired girl had expected to feel a brief headache before she was rendered a vegetable, but this was a slightly better alternative she supposed.

With nothing to do but look at the scenery, her mind wandered.

' _I hope Kirito-kun is okay'_

' _It's kind of lonely up here'_

' _I hope he comes to me'_

' _Wait no, that would mean he died. Stay away from me!'_

' _It really is lonely here…' she sighed._

As if her thoughts had summoned him, he appeared a few feet away from her, his back turned to her while he stared at the same scene that greeted her not too long ago.

Tears of relief and sadness welled up in her eyes at the sight.

' _You died too… but I'm glad you're here with me.'_

Running forward to hug him, she rested her chin on his shoulder, her heart content for the moment.

-0-0-0-

 _-It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres-_

-0-0-0-

 _ **She wasn't sure when she fell so hard for him. Maybe it was because of the scarcity of their meetings after she'd joined her guild, after romping around in the lower levels with him for so long. Absence makes the heart fonder and all that.**_

 _ **She'd always thought herself to be an independent, self-sufficient girl, who could go through life at her own behest. But kneeling in the middle of the canyon, near the place that two of her guild members had died, with her arms around the boy she loved, she felt complete.**_

 _ **Thank goodness she had decided to follow him. If she'd been a second later, he would've died to the Laughing Coffin member…**_

 _ **She shivered at the thought. Pulling away from the kiss, she stood back up, offering her hand to him. He took it without hesitation, using it to pull himself up.**_

 _ **They walked back to the guild hand in hand, the near-death experience uniting them once and for all.**_

-0-0-0-

 _-Never letting up through all your years-_

-0-0-0-

The pair sat together hand in hand, legs dangling over the edge of the plane, watching the world crumble around them, ready for the unknown.

-0-0-0-

 _-Because sometimes, love is enough-_

-0-0-0-

 _What is love?_

 _Love is patient, love is kind,_

 _But it can really hurt sometimes._

 _Love does not envy, nor does it boast,_

 _It'll be there when you need it most._

 _It always protects, always trusts, always perseveres,_

 _Never letting up through all your years._

 _-0-_

' _Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud._ _It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs._ _Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth._ _It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.' (1 Corinthians 13:4-8 NIV)_

* * *

 **A/N: It really was a struggle to write this. I deleted what I wrote countless times, not liking the direction it was taking nor how long it would've been if I continued down that route. I hope you enjoyed what I finally decided on!**


End file.
